Fallen Angel
by Poxy Kirkman
Summary: Elouise Finn is taken from her family at a young ages and forced into Albion's underground sex slave trade. Can she be saved, or will her demons haunt her for the rest of her life. Warning! This contains rape, murder, slavery, death, prostitution and underage sex. If this triggers/offends you, please don't read. Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

This is quite a dark fic, which is why I've rated it M rather than T which is my usual. For anyone who might find certain things triggering, here are the warnings.

**This story contains murder, rape, slavery, death, prostitution and underage girls forced into situations they rather would not be in. If any of this disturbs you, please do not read the fic.**

I will **never** go into detail about children being used for sex, but the implication is going to be there. **Again, if this offends/upsets/triggers you, please don't read this fic.**

It's the first I've ever written with the themes of this nature, so bare with me. I've been working on this for a while

As always, Fable isn't mine, but the OC's and alternate storyline are. Thanks.

* * *

Water dripped slowly from the stalactite on the roof of the cave, its steady and continuous plipping into the puddle forming below it making the residents of the cave twitch with each noise. And though the sound made each of them want to rip their hair from their skulls with frustration, not one soul dared breathe a word about it. Only the wild desperate eyes of the girls met, wide and scared, in the faint gloom of the darkness.

It wasn't only the water that was unsettling them. Each of the girls aged between eight and twelve, each were caged separately. The stench of stale sweat and urine punctured the air, which in turn had caused a wave of vomiting from the youths, only adding to the foulness. Blood spattered their faces, their arms and their clothes, or what were the tattered remains of them.

This was the root of Albion's underground sex slave trade.

These girls were plucked from their homes in the beginning of their youth, where their purity and innocence could be guaranteed, and their souls were easy to crush.

Among them was a girl with the brightest blue eyes and hair the colour of fire and gold, sat on the cold damp ground with her knees tucked up to her chin, her arms wrapped protectively around her thin, malnourished frame. She'd been here the longest, as it took a few months for the men to collect their girls. Her shoulders seemed to jut out sharply from her torso; her arms seemed long and gangly, as did her legs. If you looked closely you could see her ribs through her skin and her backbones ridged up in a long thin line. Her cheeks were sallow and sunken, and she appeared a good few years older than she was. Her eyes held life though, defiance, which was pronounced more as around her left calf was a thick, pink scar, where her captor had lashed out at her with a whip and cut through her flesh, laughing as he did so. He'd made her a second rate slave, her body was ruined in the eyes of the buyers, but her virginity was still in tact and that would still raise a hefty price for her body.

And at nine years old, she was highly aware of this fact. She knew when she was younger, barely five, and she looked at her family that she wasn't going to amount to much in life, that she would be a below rate citizen and she would probably grow to become in her teenage years a common harlot. It would be the only way she'd help provide money for her family. Her parents shop sold very little, her brothers were criminals, and they lived in Gunk – a small hamlet neighbouring Bloodstone and the terrible Wraithmarsh.

Looking around to the sleeping faces of their guards, the men who'd sell them off the next morning to the highest bidder, she felt her stomach and her heart clench, her lungs seemed to falter and before she knew it a panic attack swept over her, gripping her, and she was sobbing quietly into her arms, one small hand wrapped around her last birthday present from her brothers; a small silver locket, simple and third hand, and with no glass inside to hold a picture of them all, smiling at her.

After a moment of panic and tears she managed to hush herself and not wake the guards, and with that, Elouise Finn sniffled once more and rolled over on the ground, falling fitfully into a dark dream, almost as nightmarish as her reality.


	2. Chapter 2

**This story contains murder, rape, slavery, death, prostitution and underage girls forced into situations they rather would not be in. If any of this disturbs you, please do not read the fic.**

That being said, I am trying my hardest to be delicate around these themes, and I won't be going into any extreme detail about the rape of any female. There may be sexual themes later on in the fic I describe more, but they will be purely consensual.

Now that you know everything, I hope you enjoy reading.

* * *

The morning before they were being sold the men came in and few them bacon and gruel. It was hardy, full of protein and woke them up. Some of the girls tried to push it away but they were quickly yanked from their cages and slapped across the face, shoved to their knees and force fed.

The girl in the cage beside Elouise, a girl of about twelve with ebony hair and eyes as black as night looked as if she were going to try and stop them hurting the child in front of them all, but a sharp glance and a small shake of the head from herself was enough to stop the girl. She'd been there long enough to know that if you were outwardly and openly defiant then they would flog you. The girl was getting off quite easily since it was the morning of the trade and she was a pretty young thing. They'd make a lot of money on her if she stayed quiet and looked presentable. Elouise slowly bent down and touched her leg, feeling the deep crevice of the scar taint her skin and wrap slowly around, branding her.

She didn't dare breathe a word though as the cages were loaded onto a large cart and had a tarp thrown over them, hiding them from view as they moved on from the cave, travelling north from what she could tell. Once the men were seated up front, she looked at the shadowed faces of the other girls, and noticed that next to her was the girl who'd been tormented this morning.

She was crying, huddled up to the side of the cage furthest away from the others. There was nine of them in total, Elouise's cage in the centre while the other girls surrounded her. She could touch them all now, whisper to them, comfort them. The men wouldn't know as long as they were hushed.

She crawled forward and sat in the corner of her cage, reaching her arm through the bars to the girl. She was probably a year younger than her, looking scared and frightened, with big tear drops falling from her face. Her right cheek was red and around her eyes was blotchy.

"Come here," Elouise whispered, holding her hand out, and though the girl looked terrified of being caught she crawled forward and met Elouise where the bars came between them and she sat and let the fiery haired girl wipe the tears gently from her face, her brown eyes searching Elouise's own crystalline blue ones. Once the girl had stopped crying Elouise reached both her arms through the bars and pulled her gently into an awkward hug, the younger girls cheek pressing against hers, while her arms wrapped protectively around her slight form.

"It'll be okay," she whispered quietly, her eyes darting about while she comforted the girl to make sure nobody saw them other than the other girls. "My name's Elouise, but you can call me Ella."

"I'm Charlotte, b-but people call me Charlie," the girl replied, brushing her brown hair out of her face and sitting back down in her cage, looking about. "How do you know it'll be okay?"

At this, Ella grinned and looked about the cages, every pair of eyes on her while the other girls watched with baited breath.

"Because, I heard that King Sparrow is getting his army to find out people like these, and then we'll be rescued!" she grinned, and the other girls beamed back at her, all besides the one with the ebony hair.

"And who said this? We all come from Bloodstone, nobody cares about us. That's why they take us from there."

The girls stopped grinning, and Ella stuck her chin out, still smirking.

"You're a pessimist, you won't know how good it is until it happens," she retorted, her fingers brushing against the scar on her leg and imagining how good it will be when the King finds the man who did this to her and flogs him for it.

"I look at the reality... and the reality is that we're going to be made to have sex with strange, old, dirty men. And there's nothing anybody is going to do to help us."

With that she turned away and curled up in the corner of her cage, leaving the others to contemplate this. Ella felt herself deflating a little as she had to agree with this on some level. The hugest part of her wished her brothers would come charging in and rescue her, but Ben was only eleven so there wasn't much he could do, and these men had weapons, whereas her oldest brothers Jason, William and Quentin only had their fists. There was no way they could do much to help...

She would probably be made to do things she didn't want to, but then again, she'd accepted that long ago so this came as no surprise. It wasn't like her mind was innocent anyway, if you lived about Bloodstone there wasn't a lot you didn't see, and people having sex at the ends of streets or in shadowy ginnels was something she'd been exposed to at a very young age.

A small tap on her back made her start and she turned to see Charlotte staring at her with big brown eyes.

"Are we really going to be okay?" she whispered, sniffling again.

"'Course we are... ya know, eventually..." she muttered, and when she saw the girl's face drop she felt her heart clench. "Things will be bad at first, but we'll find a way out of it, won't we?"

"If you say so..." Charlotte muttered, and all Elouise could do was reach out and clasp her hand reassuringly.

"We will."

The girls had no concept of how much time had passed, only knowing that the little light they had under the tarp disappeared, and reappeared several times, so by rough estimation they could assume it had been a good few days. Every so often the cart would stop and the men who were transporting them would uncover them in the dead of night and get the girls out one by one, let them relieve themselves and then pack them back up. Scraps of food were thrown in to them, stale bread and dried salty meat mostly, and a canteen of water was passed in daily to make sure the girls didn't become too dehydrated. The cart rumbled to a halt eventually, and the tarp was pulled off the cart and the girls were exposed to bright, fresh daylight.

Surrounding the cart was a crowd of men, mercenaries mostly, but among them were men dressed in finer clothing, with smug, perverse smiled on their faces. The girls watched the crowd who jeered and called out for them, picking out their favourites from the selection of girls shown.

Their captors unloaded the cages and moved them inside a tent, opening them and watching as the girls walked out tentatively, not sure what to do. There was silence for a moment, while Ella watched a man enter. He was tall, very muscular, and had a thick cigar in his mouth. He only had a Mohawk running down the middle of his skull as hair, and a long thick scar crossed over his skull, showing he was a fighter. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just a torn vest with all it's buttons missing, and a pair of dark trousers too small for him, ripping at the seams apparently. His boots were made of thick, black leather, and were bloodstained.

He looked fairly young, but incredibly fearsome.

"Saker, you get firs' pick," one of the captors said, and the man's dark eyes examined all the girls there. His eyes crossed over Elouise's face, and she jutted her jaw out, looking back coldly. She had staring competitions like these with her brothers, trying to look the most intimidating and the least intimidated by the other. She had an amazing poker face and though inside she felt as if she were trembling like a leaf she stood stock still.

His eyes passed over her and looked to the girl with ebony hair who was standing proud and tall, but her eyes didn't meet Saker's, and he smirked.

"I want those two striped down," he ordered, and the captors pulled Elouise and the other girl out of line and ordered them to strip down to the nude. The ebony haired girl shuddered but complied, her hands shaking as she started to pull at the buttons of her dirty blouse. Ella stood there though, staring up at Saker who watched her with a mix of mild amusement and curiosity.

"I don't want to," she said slowly, glaring at the captor with the whip, who raised it threateningly. "This is wrong."

"What's your point, child?" Saker asked, his lip curling into a smirk. The other girl watched on, too shocked by Ella's actions to continue undressing.

"That is the point," Elouise spat, crossing her arms above her chest and pouting.

"It's not a good one. Now strip down so I can see you or I'll make you do it."

"Make me then!" she cried, and in a flash she'd darted forward and hit him square in his privates, watching him drop to the floor with a satisfied smirk on her face. Her glory was short lived however, as she heard the crack of that whip before she felt it, and something burned her upper left arm, and she screamed in shock.

Hands came at her from all sides and her clothes were ripped from her frame, and she was left kicking and screaming as the men backed off and she was left panting on the floor, her fiery hair a mess about her thin face, her blue eyes clouded with hate and fury.

Saker was stood above her, looking down with a scowl on his face.

"What're your names?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Mavis," said the ebony haired girl, while Ella grit her teeth and hissed back; "Bite me."

"Her name's Elouise," Mavis blurted, and flinched slightly as if expecting to be stuck by one of the men.

Saker looked over Mavis, smiling perversely, and when he turned to Elouise his smile dropped ever so slightly. He was staring at the scars along her leg, and the fresh welt in her arm from the whip they'd used upon her moments ago. She stared back, trying to convey as much hatred and animosity for the man as she could.

"I want that one," he said, nodding to Mavis, who let out a frightened squeak. Two of Saker's men grabbed the girl and hauled her away while she cried out and wept for some help, but the only reply was long, tormenting laughter from the crowds of people watching as she was taken outside and to Saker's den.

"I suggest you get the rest of those ready to go outside," he growled, shooting Elouise a last loathing look before dropping a bag full of gold into the captor's hands and walking away.

The rest of the girls were stripped, and a long thing rope bound their hands behind their backs in a long chain. They were paraded outside to the cheers of the men, and Ella watched as the richer folk nearer the front sat up and looked them over with longing in their eyes. It made her feel physically sick.

"Our first pretty young lady for the day!" the auctioneer called out, to the roar of the crowds, "will start at a thousand gold! Do we have any takers?"

A girl with wispy strawberry blond hair was untied and marched out to the front, and as she trembled she watched as the last of her freedom was sold away to the highest bidder for a whopping five thousand gold.

Elouise looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Charlotte trembling like a leaf, tears streaming down her face. She wanted to reach out and hug her to make her feel better, but she couldn't move her arms. Most of the girls went for between five and ten thousand gold, which made her wonder how people came about this kind of money for such a sick cause.

"And now for the fiery haired mistress, we'll start the bidding at... oh, Avo, a hundred. Look at those scars."

Jeers started up from the crowd, and people laughed at her. She was naked and vulnerable, and like the child she was she wanted to run and hide and cry. But pride swelled within her, something only a Finn could have, and she held her chin high and stared coldly out to the masses, and soon their jeers silenced, and every perverted man there was quite, watching her as if expecting something from her, and with her face composed and strong, she turned to the auctioneer.

"I'm a package deal with Charlotte. I'm not going anywhere without her."

She was ever so quiet, and ever so commanding. The auctioneer scratched his lice ridden hair and looked at the last girl in the line, the small child trembling, and he smiled slightly.

"Bring her over then," he instructed Elouise, and she did so, and they stood side by side, hands clasped, with Elouise standing strong and Charlotte looking rather meek in comparison but her courage seemed to perk slightly when she saw how brash her new-found friend was being.

"Turns out gents that these two come as one! The price is now two hundred gold, do we have any bidders?"

The shouts started up then, and the price sky rocketed, until there were only two of the richer men battling it out. The price settled on eighteen thousand two hundred and fifty gold, and Elouise looked over to the man who'd won her and Charlotte.

Surprisingly, he looked rather young, and the clothing he wore indicated that he was nothing more than a servant. His hair was a dark brown, his cheeks flecked with freckles, and he wore a lopsided grin as he came up to pay the auctioneer and collect his 'prize'. He was ugly as sin, and Elouise frowned, wondering if the servants' terrible looks reflected back to his master.

He looked at the two girls and asked for something to be brought to cover them.

"I think you two will like your new home, and you're exactly what Master Finch was looking for, you'll be just the treat for him."

Sharing uneasy looks, the pulled the plain cotton gowns over their heads, glad they were given some of their modesty back, and though the urge to run was building in her stomach, Ella noticed the pistol holstered on the man's hip and decided against it. Instead she pushed Charlotte carefully into the carriage they were provided with, and she climbed in herself, letting the younger girl rest her head on her lap to go to sleep while she watched her life flash away through the window.


	3. Chapter 3

Another chapter, as ever if any of the aforementioned things trigger you, please don't read this. If you are reading this however and want to leave me a message, I would appreciate it. Cheers :D

* * *

The man was looking at her with a twisted smile and something burning in his beady little eyes, which she immediately took offence to, and pointedly refused to look the man in the eye from that point on.

Again they travelled for days, but this time Elouise was able to see the countryside pass them by, and was able to look into the depths of Albion where she had never dreamed of going in her wildest fantasies. Rolling green hills and fresh air surrounded her, a stark contrast from the dank, dirty air of Bloodstone and the eerie, threatening nature of the marshes. They were travelling further north this time, away from a place the man told her was Mistpeaks, and they would take a few days. Charlotte stayed very quiet by her side, not uttering a word the entire way there.

The carriage rolled to a halt beside a huge house, a mansion even. It was made of thick oak logs and stone, and was probably large enough to house all of her brothers, and herself in a room each. There'd be plenty of places to hide away from this Master Finch, but something told her she'd have very little opportunity to.

The man who'd bought them marched them inside, and left them in the hallway as he strode off to find the pervert who was going to keep them and... do unmentionable things to them.

"We could make a run for it," Ella whispered, but the stricken look on Charlie's face was enough to tell her that it wouldn't help, and they would probably be caught.

"Ella, I'm really scared..." she whispered back, shaking again. For a brief moment Ella felt like rolling her eyes and brushing the girl off, but she realised that this situation was actually really scary, and though she was acting rather apathetic towards it she was ready to bawl her eyes out. Deciding honesty was the best policy, she held her friend's hand.

"Me too..."

They waited for several minutes, when all of a sudden a very... very large man appeared at the top of the stairs and smiled down at them. He was fat. With each step he took his whole form wobbled about, his stomach hung over his pants and his shirt was so tight that the buttons were straining at the button holes, waiting for a moment to pop off and fly somewhere. His feet were wedged into posh little leather shoes, but his ankles were so swollen they barely fit properly. Elouise noticed varicose veins along his legs, probably caused by his obesity. His arms looked huge and what was almost comical was that he was carrying a platter of sandwiches, which he proceeded to shove one at a time into his fat face. His head seemed to be placed precariously atop his shoulders, like a ball, which could roll off any second. He was bald, and looked like he was sweating buckets.

The only thing she felt was revulsion.

"So, these are my two little doves!" he cried, wobbling his way down the stairs, clinging to the banister as he went. "My two precious doves here to make me happy."

Elouise felt bile rise in her throat, but did not look away. She wouldn't give that sick, pathetic lump of a man the satisfaction.

"What's your name, my dear?" he asked, looking down at her, smiling cruelly.

"Elouise," she replied, angered to find her voice seemed meek. "And this is Charlotte."

"Charlotte," he said, looking at the eight ear old. "You're very pretty..."

Elouise started at this, and subtly shifted Charlotte behind herself, hiding her from view.

"We've come a long way, Mr Finch. Is it possible to have some food?"

He looked taken aback by this, shocked even that the child would be so outright with her demands, but his shocked face twisted into a smirk and he nodded, pointing them to the kitchen and inviting them to eat anything they wanted.

And they did, they feasted and then Elouise demanded baths be drawn for the girls, since they were dirty from the ordeals they'd been through. Again, Finch complied with Elouise's demands, but when it came to nightfall, his mood shifted.

"Which one of you will... visit me tonight, I wonder?" he asked, his voice slimy and suggestive.

The girls were silent, and Elouise watched as his eyes flitted to her friend, and his smirk grew.

"I think-" he stared, looking directly at Charlotte with a nasty smile on his face, but Elouise couldn't let it happen, and she spoke up quickly.

"Me."

Then came another cry, the first words to burst loudly from Charlie's mouth since Ella had known her; "No! No, he was going to pick me."

Ella wasted no time in kicking her friend under the table and glaring at her, so she shut up again.

"I said I'd do it. I want to."

She didn't want to. The only reason she was volunteering was because she couldn't let the shy quiet girl she'd promised everything would be okay to go first in the torment, because that would be a terrible thing to do.

"I'll do it," she repeated, softer this time. And so it was that she lost her virtue, her innocence, and her childhood to the demon that was Peter Finch.


	4. Chapter 4

Same as ever, if the topics trigger you don't read it.

Chapter four, but I'm not sure if I'm going to be continuing this..

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Screams punctured the air in the mansion, and then silence.

After twenty minutes there were rapid footsteps and the sound of sobbing and Elouise burst through the doors to her and Charlie's room, flinging herself on the bed where she cried. Charlie was by her side in an instant, turning her over and listing her up and pulling her close, whispering comforting words and stroking her hair back. There was something in these children that had twigged when they'd been taken into captivity, and sold to horrible men. They'd had to change their outlook and the perception on life, act more grown up, and that was what they were doing.

"I-I hate him!" Elouise shouted, and Charlie shushed her and kissed her on the cheek and quietened her down.

"Let him use me next time, then," she offered, stroking Ella's fiery hair out of her face. The girl scoffed at this, pushing her friend away and standing up shakily.

"I've managed to stop him doing that for two years, I'm not going to let him get to you again."

The girls were now twelve and eleven, and they cast their minds back to when he first had them. He'd taken Elouise the first night they were there, and she'd been in that much pain afterwards that she couldn't move for two days. When she could stand again without creasing up in pain he'd forced Charlotte into his room. He'd been horrible to her, and she came out of there and didn't speak for a month, leaving Elouise to tend to her and care for her. Ella had refused to let Finch near Charlie after that, and had managed to bare with it all until now. She'd never cried before.

Charlie knew her friend was stubborn, would not co-operate, and the only thing she could do now was to run a warm bath for Ella.

"Sit down, I'll help you in a minute."

Elouise watched as the girl she now considered a sister walked into the bathroom they shared in this prison, and ran the water in and heated it until it was nice and warm. She came back and though Elouise didn't want her to, she let Charlie undress her and help her hobble into the bathroom and climb into the tub. They'd seen each other naked before, so there were no secrets. Elouise only sat there in the water as Charlie gently rubbed soap over her skin, cleaning her and being very gentle around the purple bruises over her body. She cleaned her hair and brushed the tangles out and when Ella was clean again she helped her out of the bath and dried her, being very gentle and tender.

"You don't have to mother me," Elouise muttered, shrugging her off and hobbling over to her bed.

"You mother me," Charlotte shot back, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, well I'm older than you, that's allowed. Besides... I can't let him hurt you again."

"But he keeps hurting you Ella," Charlotte moaned, and Elouise looked up at her with her shining blue eyes and shook her head, smiling slightly.

"It's my job," she replied, and she turned away from those big chocolate brown eyes staring back at her and rolled over to go to sleep.

They'd gone down for breakfast the next morning together, being quiet as they did so in case Finch heard them and wanted one of them. Despite the fact they were slaves to this man, forced to comply to his every whim, they had a measured amount of freedom. They could roam the house as they liked, though they tended not to in case they should run into the fat bastard keeping them here. Charlotte liked to spend a certain amount of time in the library he had, or she'd take piles of books back to their room and sit for hours reading. Elouise couldn't treat herself to this luxury, as because of her families poverty they couldn't teach her to read or write, unlike her brothers who had at least a little money invested into their education which they squandered away by turning into criminals on the streets. Instead she'd developed a love for music. She would, when she lived in Gunk, travel the hour it took to get to Bloodstone and she'd sit on the pier listening to people busk, or she'd stand in the doorway of the pub and listen to the sailors play the piano and sing songs they'd learned on their journeys.

She'd become such a regular face around The Leper's Arms that the bartender allowed her to come in, which was a special treatment for her as children weren't normally allowed in there. She'd sit and watch the men play piano, sitting beside them and watching their fingers dance across the keys, or when one of the bar maids was off ill (or giving birth to the next of her brood she couldn't afford) old Wallace would ask her to clean tables down, take pints to the regulars and so on. She loved days like this, because he'd give her a small amount of gold for her work and send her off home with his son Jake who lived in Gunk too, and a kind smile. Those days she could buy a loaf of bread and some meat and their family would eat properly, and she could revel in the attention her brothers would give her.

So during the days in her prison, she would sneak down to the piano in the main hall and she would teach herself the scales on the piano, would play one octave to another, and one of the butlers who pitied her and Charlotte would teach her simple chords, and which notes sounded right together.

Charlotte would also try teaching her how to read a little, and she was able to read the alphabet and write her name down, but that was about it. Sometimes she'd feel stupid and would go into sulks and hide in the pantry cupboard eating Finch's favourite chocolates so he couldn't have them, and laugh behind his back when he raved about it at the dinner table. Charlotte would share a giggle with her, and they'd go to bed friends again, neither feeling any inferior to the other.

It was at the dinner table that night that Finch addressed them.

"My doves, I need a word."

"He needs a diet," Elouise muttered under her breath, which made Charlotte choke on her drink and she spent several minutes sputtering while Ella patted her on the back and Finch watched on in disapproval.

"Anyway... I'm afraid you two will have to go soon," he drawled, huffing. The man had grown fatter in the past two years and he struggled to do much lately. Elouise was secretly hoping he would have a heart attack. "You've become too old for my taste."

"Too old?" Elouise asked in shock, wondering how sick in the head this man would be if he thought that girls of twelve and eleven were too old to use for their own sick pleasures.

"Yes, I've bought more girls. I've sold you, so I suggest you pack whatever belongings you have and you'll be leaving in the morning."

"Wait, you sold us?!" Charlotte cried, and Elouise looked equally as furious.

"We can't just leave and go back to our families?" she shouted, and Finch looked amused at the question.

"Of course not, do you think I want my name being tarnished by a pair of prostitutes like yourselves?"

Ella wanted to scream that his name was probably already mud, as most of his servants hated him and what he and probably told everyone back at their homes and in the pub. But her voice caught in a lump in her throat. It made her sick to hear him slander her, but he called them prostitutes... were they? They didn't willingly sell their bodied, but they'd gotten to the point where they didn't fight back when he called them to his room, they just complied and went, with sagging shoulders.

So they finished their dinner in silence, and they went back to their room and put what little they had into a bag and sat up all night, silence keeping them company until morning light when there was a sharp knock on their door and a hulk of a man pushed it open, looking at them both.

"Shit... he never said you were so young..." he said, a hint of disgust in his voice. "How- how old are you?"

"I'm twelve," Ella piped up, looking from the man to Charlie. "And she's eleven."

"Sick bastard," the man choked, motioning for the girls to follow him out of the house.

"We know,"Charlie muttered, and the man nodded grimly.

"Personally I don't agree with this, but the boss might have different ideas... sorry girls. Go outside and get into the back of the cart."

They complied, Ella slipping her hand into Charlie's as they walked slowly outside, seeing another four men there – probably to ensure a safe passage for the girls to their new destination. The men outside looked equally shocked, and horrified, but they helped the girls climb into the cart where they nested in a pile of straw and huddled close. The man who'd come to collect them left the house with a look of utter disgust written across his face, as if he'd smelled something foul.

"Bloke's got younger ones coming later!" he cried in anger.

It was confusing, seeing men have moral standards about children, but feel completely flippant about prostitution. It was somewhat nice too, it made Elouise feel a little safer knowing that they could be excluded from sexual activities if they were deemed too young.

"How old are these two?" one of the other men asked, scratching his bald head.

"Twelve, and he thinks they're too old..."

There was a pause and the men looked about, trying to decide what to do between them, one of the younger ones, couldn't have been more than twenty five, looked at the girls watching them all debate.

"How old were you when he got you?" he asked, and before Elouise could open her mouth Charlotte had already spoke up.

"I was eight, and she was nine."

And all the men looked mortified, before they turned back to the one who seemed to be in charge and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Should we just kill the fat sod? Tell one of the maids or something to take in the new girls and keep them safe?"

It was agreed, as the men nodded, and Ella felt her brow knot in confusion.

"Why can't you let us go?" she piped up, and the man looked at her sorrowfully.

"Sorry sweetheart... our boss already paid for you, it'd be our heads if we turned up without you."

And though she wanted to argue with that, she could see his logic. Hopefully they would be treated better in this new place, wherever it was, and the two new girls coming to replace them would be safe from the harm they'd had to suffer the past three years.

Before noon that day they'd set off, but not before the men collecting them returned inside and butchered Finch, and though her stomach knotted in fear of what could come, her heart soared in gladness knowing that even though she and Charlie were setting off into the unknown, other children would be safe from that fat old man.

It was better than him having a heart attack.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five, for anyone actually reading this.

This chapter contains nothing sexual, but motives are clear for future chapters. This story contains themes of sexual violence, child abuse, slavery and death. Please don't read it if this offends you, but if you're alright reading it then drop me a message so I know what you think so far :)

* * *

Their new captors gave them plenty of apples and strips of chicken to keep them fed, allowed them space in the hay cart to talk to one another, and gave them as much water as they wanted. Blankets were provided to keep them warm, and Charlie was snuggled up to Ella when she raised an interesting topic.

"If these guys are being so nice to us..." she started in a hushed whisper, "then maybe this new guy will be nice too. Maybe he'll let us go."

Elouise yawned and pulled the younger girl close, resting her head atop Charlie's shoulder. She brushed her fiery bangs out of her eyes and shook her head.

"He's not going to pay money and let us go. It'd be stupid really, if you think about it."

"I suppose so..."

She could help but notice the disappointment in Charlotte's voice, and she felt bad for it, but there wasn't anything else she could say, because there was no point instilling false hope only for it to be shattered. There was no chance they'd be freed from this, not for a few years at least until they were big enough and fast enough to escape. Night time folded upon them, and drowsiness pulled at her, until she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. The first in two years.

Their new 'master' was the owner of a bordello in the middle of a place called Rookridge. Apparently they'd come from what was left of Oakfield, a small town that used to be more rural but revolutionised itself with industry and now inhabited mostly fat and wealthy people, like Finch.

This man was very, very thin. And very tall. Though despite his amazing slender figure he was obviously muscular, and his lean frame was rippling with muscles, not to mention the heavy sword at his side, which indicated his involvement in fighting, or any other likewise activities.

He had a head of jet black hair, and a small, well trimmed beard along with it. His eyes were a strange amber colour, and his skin was dark, though he wasn't black. Ella suspected he was half caste. His clothing looked well, and she sensed he had some wealth about him but didn't flaunt it... something about him made her think he wasn't the type for showing off.

He was looking at his two new girls, disbelief written across his eyes, his mouth agape, and he turned slowly to the man who'd collected them.

"Is this a joke?" he asked quietly.

"No sir, these are the two girls Finch sold you... but we uh... we killed him, so here's your money back."

"You killed him?" the man asked with a small smile on his face, taking the heavy pouch off the man.

"Only because he was forcing children to... do stuff to him."

"No, no I'm not complaining. I'm happy you did... but I can't use children in my bordello."

Elouise looked around, and the room was silent. The men who'd brought them didn't know what to do with themselves and their new 'master' was obviously at a loss of what to do with them. Feeling rather brash, she coughed a little and spoke up;

"Can we go then?"

The man paused, looked about and smiled a little, standing and walking towards the two girls. Charlotte cowered slightly behind Elouise, but she herself stood proud again, trying to convince him silently to let them go. But he shook his head as he crouched down in front of her, his smile sad but his eyes full of some maliciousness, she didn't like.

"I can't do that, sweetheart. It's taken a lot of effort to get you here, you see. And you could run and tell the men higher up in authority that I'm buying and selling women, which will put me out of a job... I can't I'm afraid."

He led them to another room, smaller than the one at Finch's, with two beds crammed in and just a small gap to squeeze through to get tot he small bedside table there. There was just one small window and one candle, so it seemed very dim.

They put their things in a corner while their new owner gave the collector a pouch of money and instructed him to go to the nearest town and purchase some more clothes for them. Until they were old enough for it not to be too criminal, probably only in about a year or two Ella assumed, they'd be cleaning the bordello top to bottom every day for the foreseeable future.

Charlie sat on her new bed after they left and looked around glumly, before turning to Ella.

"I suppose it's a little better," she said quietly, rubbing her arms.

"How is it?" Elouise snapped, chucking her bag across her bed and throwing herself down after it.

"We don't have to have sex for a few years, so it won't be bad. Maybe before then we could think of a plan to... escape."

Elouise looked around the room. It was a deep red, and though it seemed cosy she hated it immediately. What was more shocking to her, more profound, was that it reminded her so much of home.

There was one chest of drawers, made of cheap, rotting oak because it was damp, but that could be easily sorted out if she pulled the drawers out and let them air until they were dry. The beds seemed sturdy enough, but like her bed at home they were made of thick chunks of wood thrown together and nailed together at random points. Her father had had to nail her bed again after the bottom left leg fell off, and once he did it was a lot better. The mattress seemed old and word and the sheets were dusty. The duvet itself looked the nicest thing about the room. It was a deep red, but it was a patchwork quilt.

She remembered making her own small patchwork quilt at home with her mother, of all sorts of different colours and materials. Some were quite exotic, that she'd been given as gifts from the men who frequented the pub when they were in port in Bloodstone. They said she was a little angel, helping out so she could take money home and they gave her a few of the finer things they found on their travels as a means to show her the best the world had to offer. Personally, she'd always thought that it didn't matter what they gave her, it was just the generosity of the men that showed her the best of Albion, and whatever there was beyond it. It was good of them to be so kind to her when she helped out at the pub.

But now she'd grown and she'd seen how cruel men could be, she began second guessing their actions, wondering if it was them being nice or if they had ulterior, darker reasons for it. She hated thinking like this, she didn't want what was happening to her now taint all that was good in her childhood, but sometimes she couldn't help it.

She hated what her life had become and how shed had no control over it before it got like this. How she was going to end up like this for the rest of her life and how much she really wanted to just go back to how it had been before all of this had happened.

Charlotte sensed her upset and Ella felt the girl lie down next to her and her arms wrap around her, pulling her closer to her comfortingly. Elouise turned slightly and pushed her face into Charlotte's chest, staying quiet.

"When we hit rock bottom," the girl whispered, "the only place left to go is up."


	6. Chapter 6

Another chapter!

Please review

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A teenager with long, curly red hair sat atop the roof, looking out to the sunrise over the cliff tops. She was dressed particularly scantily, just an extremely short skirt covered her thighs, and a silken camisole to cover her chest. The first rays to peek over the horizon were as red as her hair, and then they melted and blended into delicate pinks, oranges, blues with a golden hue and the everything was clear and the sun blossomed up into the sky.

Sighing slightly, she looked around for any signs of movement and slowly slid down the roof, feeling for the ledge beneath her feet which she'd climb through.

And as she slid into the room, she looked into the red eyes of her friend Charlotte, and frowned.

"You should stop crying, you know Hale doesn't like it," Elouise suggested, to which Charlotte scoffed and threw her a disdainful look.

"Since when did you start singing to his tune?" she spat, but wiped her eyes nonetheless. Elouise looked taken aback for a moment, her blue eyes widening considerably as hurt flitted across her face, but she composed herself again, and shook her head, sitting down on the patchwork quilt on her bed.

"I didn't, but I don't fancy seeing my best friend get slapped around."

There was silence, and Elouise regarded Charlotte wearily. The girl was growing to be a pretty young woman. At fifteen she was already shapely, with wide hips and full breasts, long legs and long brown hair cascading down over her pretty face. Her cheeks were slightly freckled, her eyes large and doe like, and she was often picked out by patrons of the whore house to fuck with. Elouise was a popular one too. She stood tall, her breasts weren't particularly large but they weren't disappointing either. She was slender, with long graceful limbs and stark facial features. Her chin was sharp and she often jutted it out in protest of something she wouldn't dare voice in fear of a flogging. She had beautiful high cheekbones, her eyes were large and shone like sapphires, and her hair was like fire tumbling around her face.

Charlotte sighed slightly, and looked down to the rotting floor.

"I can't do this any more," she whispered, her voice choking.

Elouise started slightly, knowing the implications behind those words. In their time plenty of women forced into prostitution here had found a way to top themselves, but that was something she wouldn't let Charlie do.

"Come on love, don't say that..." she whispered back, trying not to panic. "Just be patient, just... just last this year, okay? I'll find us a way out."

Charlotte looked up sadly, shaking her head.

"You've been saying that for years Ella, but we're still here."

Elouise paused, biting her lip. Her hand moved slightly to her shoulder, where the number '52' was tattooed there. It was her mark, her number. She was the fifty second girl to be marked by Hale, the bloke running this show, and Charlie was number '53'. She'd been promising since before then that they'd get out of this place, this torment, but it had been seven years now since it started, and this was beginning to become all she knew. She could still play piano, quite well might she add, as Hale kept an old one downstairs and she'd get the opportunity every now and then to play it when she wasn't busy.

But none of this mattered. She had made Charlie a promise years ago, and she needed to fulfil it soon.

"We're going to get out of here," she said firmly, standing up abruptly and taking Charlie by surprise. "Get some proper clothes on, drop the brassiere crap we've been given and then we'll escape."

Charlotte stared at her, aghast, but Elouise ignored her shock and turned and whipped off her top, pulling on a proper blouse instead that covered her and gave a little warmth. She dropped her skirt too, not bothering about privacy, and pulled on some brown leggings she'd got a while ago. She'd also stolen a pair of boots from one of her drunken visitors, and she'd stowed them away under the bed, for a time like this. After a moment something in Charlotte twigged and she copied Ella's actions, dressing appropriately but still looking stunned.

"How far do you think we'll get?" she whispered, a sudden sense of urgency gripping at their chests.

"Far away, all the way to Bowerstone hopefully."

"But that's miles away!" Charlie gasped, looking horrified.

"Then we go as soon as possible. You know Hale leaves people to sleep in the day because night time is business time. We go now, climb up onto the roof and down the gutter at the back then we're out. His guards are hung over and asleep so we're home free!"

They looked at one another, brown eyes stared into blue, anxiety stared into anxiety, and then there was a rush of happiness... then sadness.

"We'll need food..." Charlie whispered, sitting on her bed again, now in attire similar to Ella's.

"We'll steal it on our way," Elouise said finally, before hoisting herself up onto the small window ledge and squeezing her way through. She pulled herself up onto the roof and then hung her arms over the side in order to pull Charlie up too. As planned, though hastily done so, they scaled down the gutter and dropped soundlessly into the bushes below. They crept away for a short distance, every sound making their hearts leap up into their throats and their breath hitch ever so slightly, stopping them breathing.

The sun was risen properly now, the warm rays tickling their backs as they escaped their prison. Charlotte was trembling as they crept through the bushes, staying off the main path in case they were spotted. Elouise couldn't have admitted that her heart was hammering fiercely against her chest, making her shake slightly. Thankfully Charlie didn't notice, but a loud sound ahead stopped them both, and Charlotte dropped to the ground as a large group of men passed down the main path, barely three meters away, and they recognised them as patrons of the whore house. Elouise stayed very still, pressing herself up against the nearest tree and into the shadows. Once they passed she let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"Ella, if they're coming early it's not going to be long until-"

"Until Hale realises we're not there, I know."

They shared an uneasy glance, but they were too far gone now to go back, so they pressed on after making sure the path was clear.

After a few miles, when they could no longer see the rickety red roof of the bordello, and there was no indicator of people following them, they broke into a run, charging down the path, hand in hand, fleeing for a new life.


	7. Chapter 7

If anyone is still reading this, I hope you don't hate me for this chapter. It's a bit grim.

* * *

They seemed to be travelling forever on the sun stroked highway, and both girls were becoming tired and dehydrated. Elouise, realising it was her idea to escape on such short notice, had taken the liberty of sneaking into one of the small cottages along the road and stealing whatever food and water she could find, and gave the majority of it to Charlie, who didn't want to accept it but overwhelming hunger and thirst made her cave in, and she greedily took both with a small word of thanks.

The sun was piercing, Elouise had never known it to be so hot, and she was regretting wearing her warmest clothing already. However, she knew it would come in handy when night fell about them, so together they persevered and they ignored the sweat on the backs of their necks making their hair cling to them, the way their clothing was becoming damp. And they plodded on, until dusk fell and they knew they'd have to find shelter away from the road where they could be caught, and the natural dangers Albion had to offer. They knew about mercenaries and bandits, but the legends they'd heard in Bloodstone of Balverines and Hobbes made them weary of the dark. Not to mention they knew about the existence of Hollow Men and Banshees, so why doubt another monster?

There was a small cave to the left of the road, sheltered enough so that it wouldn't be spotted if they pulled more foliage over the entrance, and it gave a good viewing spot of the road below. They climbed the rocks to get up there, pulled branches over the gap in the cliff, and they huddled together for warmth, wondering what the morning would bring. They were silent, until Charlie whispered both of their shared fears.

"What if we don't make it?" she asked quietly, gripped Ella's hand. "What if they find us and kill us?"

Ella was silent for a moment, considering the best way to approach this question and perhaps put her friends' mind at rest... though that was highly unlikely.

"Well, we're not being stupid are we? We're not being obvious about where we're going, or which way we went. We've not been spotted and we're being careful, so I don't think they will catch us."

"But what if they do Ella? What if they find us?" Charlie pressed on, her brown eyes just visible as moonlight glinted through the leaves. There were tears in her eyes, and Elouise felt guilt wrap at her chest. She knew they were in danger out here, but they were in danger back in the bordello... there was no difference here except they were fighting for their freedom.

"Then they catch us. And if they kill us then so be it, but I'd rather die knowing I fought for my freedom, and I tried to get my life back, then knowing I'm going to grow old in there and then they'll kill me anyway..."

She trailed of into silence, but the gentle pressure on her hand let her know that on some level Charlie agreed, and they'd be in this one together.

* * *

Both girls were quiet as they looked over the sparkling lake and the houses of pristine white rock surrounded it. Over the hillside, they could see the rising turrets and towers of Bowerstone castle, where the Hero King had lived, and where King Logan lived now. They'd heard word about him on their travels, when they snook into taverns on the road and sat down for a scrap to eat with the meagre amount of money they'd managed to pick up on the road. A gold coin here, a small purse discarded by a traveller. Apparently he was a good King, he would help people in need and they were planning on heading there as quickly as they could.

It was when they started down the path, that Charlie stopped and looked at a sign pointing back to where they'd come from.

"You know that forest we just went through?" she asked, reading the sign.

"The one infested with bleeding beetles?" Ella mumbled, holding her stick firmly, they only thing they'd had to beat off the little buggers.

"Yeah, it's called Brightwood, and apparently Rookridge is about seventy miles away..."

"So seventy miles took us three days? I don't reckon we'll be caught then, not after three days. We'd have been searched out before then."

"Think so?"

"We'd have been caught already if we were going to be, wouldn't we?" Ella pointed out, smiling.

And so they carried on, sticking to the winding path past the houses and through the fields. There was one very large mansion across the lake, and it looked grand, but there was a foreboding sense about it, and Elouise couldn't help but think she recognised some of the grandeur. It startled them that nobody was about. Given the fact that this looked like a rather rich estate, she thought there would have been a few people out and about in their splendid clothing, or else there would be one or two servants running about getting water and groceries. A flicker of doubt crossed her mind, and she felt Charlie grip her hand tightly, entwining their fingers together in an effort to put them at ease. It seemed almost too peaceful to be peaceful, but it was. The only time Elouise had seen a town like this before was when she was very young, living in Gunk, and there were rumours of a banshee attacking Bloodstone. Every single man, woman and child had locked the doors and windows to their homes and had taken shelter in their cellars. She could remember the screeches of that creature from miles away when it blasted through the doors to the Wraithmarsh, swooping down on the city and destroying everything until the old hero King had come in and destroyed the monster itself. She could remember her mother pulling her closer to her chest, and the muted whispers of her brothers as they reassured her everything was going to be okay, and they'd be fine.

They were, but she'd managed to sneak away the day after and make her was slowly and carefully into the town. Bodies had littered the streets, woman lay crying for their husbands and children wandered too and fro, knowing they were more than likely orphans now but still searching vainly for their parents just so they had a small chance to find they wouldn't be. No-one liked accepting the cold, hard truth. She'd lost her childhood innocence that day, seeing death and destruction and shady men coveting the bodies of dead whores... it wasn't normal, it wasn't natural, and it wasn't what a child of five years of age should have seen. This was the first attack she had seen, and the second had been worse. The banshee took people's sanity, she saw the death happening before her eyes, and as she'd gone to flee home she'd been snatched by the men who sold her on. Nine years old, ready to have her life ruined.

Her mind wandered to the many possibilities there could have been, of there being monsters attacking, or mercenaries. She understood that people would want to seek shelter at a time like that, but there was an unnatural absence of guards here too...

Then a cry alerted her to imminent danger, and her head whirled around in the direction it came from, only to see a group of five or more men pelting down the long path towards them. They were far enough away for them to attempt escape, but her legs felt like lead when she saw the man running out front, and with a jolt she realised it was Hale, a look of utter fury on his face that screamed no mercy would be given.

Her body snapped back to sense, and with a jerk she was running down the hill, Charlotte in tow, and they were pelting for the path leading to Bowerstone, hoping for a chance of freedom, a place to hide, some justice to be done before they were killed. In the distance somewhere she could hear gunshots and her arm – for some reason – seared with a burning pain that she ignored and it faded to numbness. It was like it didn't matter now, as long as her legs could work then she could get away.

"Run!" she screamed, and looked back briefly to see Charlotte looking petrified but keeping up good pace, and the older men tiring in the back... all except Hale, who charged towards them with unnatural speed and stamina. Panic was gripping her, and she tried to make her legs go faster, urging herself on. "Come on Charlie! Run!"

But with a resounding crack like thunder, she felt something heavy pulling her back, then down, and she was on the floor, panting, desperate to stand up and move on.

Her eyes flickered to Charlie, who lay next to her, her eyes wide and scared and staring, her mouth agape as if she realised what was going to happen... her body limp... her chest still...

And in that frightening moment, she was on her knees again, ignoring how Hale was mere paces away, staring on angrily but otherwise unmoving, panting as he watched the scene unfold.

Elouise pushed Charlotte's shoulders, turning her over onto her back and staring at her in disbelief. The girl stared up to the sky, her mouth slack, not moving at all. The red haired girl started shaking her weakly, her own vision blurring as she felt her heart breaking. There was no response from her friend, from her sister, only that dead blank stare that meant nothing. No lights shone from those eyes, no hint at life.

"Charlie?" she whispered, hearing her own voice crack. "Wake up babe, please."

There was no movement in the girl, and though Ella knew it was in vain she continued to shake her friend, pleading with her and the Gods for her to wake up, begging Hale to help but he looked on quietly, pondering the situation, a slight look of regret in his eyes.

"She's not going to wake up," he said slowly, crouching down next to Ella and gripping her forearm, forcing her to stand. "She's dead."

The words pierced Ella's heart, and she knew it was true but didn't want to admit it, didn't even want to hear it.

"I hate you," she hissed through gritted teeth, her blue eyes turning and fixing on those dark eyes of the man before her, her 'master', her owner and her captor. He merely stared back, his eyes holding nothing but apathy and he shrugged slightly.

"I know. Now come on, we're going to get you back home."

With a shudder and a jolt Ella was on her feet again, backing away from Hale and his goons who had finally caught up.

"That is not my home!" she screamed, readying herself to turn tail and run, despite the flurry of bullets she knew would pursue her. "Take me back to Bloodstone!"

"Bloodstone? Ella my love, Bloodstone is nothing but a wreck of a town nowadays."

"It was a wreck of a town before," she shot back, smirking slightly. "But it was my wreck of a town."

She turned on her heel then and went to run, but arms wrapped around her middle, heaving her up while she screamed out insults and foul words, looking back desperately to the body of her deceased best friend and wishing she'd been able to keep her promises, before something blunt stuck her on the back of her head and with a small gasp the ginger haired girl was plunged into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey, so I do have some readers after all :D

The story, from hereon in, is a little less grotesque in the themes. There won't be so many scenes where terrible things are happening and if there are I'll let you know the chapter before okay? I'm actually gonna turn this into a love story! Le Gasp!

Please review :)

* * *

As her eyes flickered open and she felt the dull throb in the back of her head and behind her eyelids, a rush of panic and sadness welled up in her chest. The sad dead eyes of Charlie pierced her mind, and tears built up before spilling out rapidly. She moved to wipe her tears away, but her arms didn't do anything, despite her feeling the muscles tensing.

Her head turned to the right, and she saw her arm tied with rope, and bound to the headboard of a bed. Slowly, she turned her head to the left, and saw that arm was in a likewise position. Panic had truly settled in her stomach, and she felt the overwhelming need to scream out for help. She didn't, as the small niggling voice in the back of her mind reminded her that it would probably bring unwanted attention, and nobody would be bothered about her. She was only a common whore.

Raising her head slightly from the stiff mattress, she saw she was completely naked, and her legs were tied to the bed posts. This was a compromising position she was in, and her stomach knotted as she realised the potential for danger.

Her mind was swirling with thoughts of Charlie, and their bid for freedom and their failure, and now this must be her punishment from Hale, though Avo only knew what he had planned for her.

The room itself was a deep dark red, and she gulped nervously as she realised she was back in the bordello, though this was one room she had never seen. With a plunge she realised this must be Hale's room, as it was very large and had an air of grandeur about it. Satin curtains, silken sheets, solid polished oak furniture...

The door to the side of the room creaked open, and Hale stood there looking furious. His dark hair covered his eyes, but they still flashed from beneath, warning her of the pain she was about to endure. He was only wearing his pants, but he soon shed those and his undergarments and was stood stark bollock naked in front of her, at the bottom of the bed.

"If you hadn't realised already, you're in a lot of trouble," he hissed, and he set his knees upon the bed before crawling up towards her, leaning over and touching noses with her. She could smell the acrid stench of whiskey on his breath, and she longed to turn away but Finn pride made her stare back, her icy blue eyes fixed to his evil dark ones. "So, my pet, I'm going to punish you like the naughty girl you are."

She heard the slap before she felt it, her thigh stinging a little before he brought his hand down again on her. She yelped out, but that only made him smile so as a rule she bit the inside of her cheek while he continued spanking her. He eventually stopped, leaving red cracked skin behind before turning his attention back to her body, especially her breasts.

"You were always a lovely creature," he purred, his eyes darting up for a second to meet hers. "Always very bold, very fierce... you were always too good to sell to those louts. Don't worry dear, I'll keep you to myself and then you won't want to run away again..." his head had dipped down to the curve of her shoulder, he smirked before biting into her flesh and making her cry out in pain before the real assault began.

* * *

She lay on the bed, tears streaming from her face as she screamed and thrashed about to no avail. Her body was in agony, her pride broken, but she wanted to break free, she wanted to run and find freedom or die trying.

She wanted to die. A large part of her did anyway, so she wasn't bothered what negative repercussions were heading her way as she continued. She could only hear shouts from the bar as people fought, and the stampede of feet up the stairs made her scream louder. She was going to be raped again, she knew it.

The door burst open, and she looked about wildly to see a dark pair of eyes fixed on her, before a shout was raised.

"Out!"

He wanted her to himself, obviously, and she braced herself, sucking in a lungful of air ready to scream profanities at him, but his hand clamped over her mouth, and he shushed her.

"I'm here to help you."

There was a pause, the air in her lungs seeming to turn stale so she had to breath out. Those dark eyes were friendly, the man behind them spoke gently to her, he never once looked back at her naked body, but she trusted no man, and once he removed his hand she butted her head up, missing his by mere inches before spitting in his face.

"Get out you sick bastard! You're only here to help yourself!"

She thrashed again, tears pouring and anguished cries escaping from her, but the man didn't seem phased. He calmly wiped the spit away, and pulled out his sword. In one swift motion the ropes around her legs were cut, and in another motion her arms were free too. He put his sword away, pulled the cover up from the floor and put it over her before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I am here to help you, but I understand why you may have taken my reasons for being here wrong. I am, after all, in a bordello."

For the first time, she looked at him. He was a tall, thin man, late teens or early twenties, and he was looking at her quietly. His clothing was a deep rich purple in colour, while the armour covering him was silver and steel, very strong and very expensive. He looked very formal, and somewhat formidable. Not someone she would want to cross in a fisticuffs. His face was thin, but very handsome, his eyes dark but caring, his features very sharp, his hair a chocolate brown that was ruffled untidily about his head.

"Who are you?" she whispered, drawing the duvet up to her neck and staring at him, her own blue eyes very wide, but she felt very calm in his presence.

"My name is Logan. I am King of Albion, and I am here to save you and the other poor women here. I was told about the murder of one girl in Millfields and the capture of another, and I arranged with a troop of men to come out on a rescue mission. Were you by chance the girl in Millfields?"

Her heart skipped a little when he spoke to her, and she wanted to whoop and hug him, but in her current condition it probably wasn't wise for her to do so.

"Yes, I'm Elouise. My friend Charlie was... was killed by Hale. He brought me back here." She paused, glancing away then back at him. "Was she still there?"

She asked him in a voice barely above a whisper, her eyes glued to his and she noticed a flicker of sadness behind those warm brown eyes.

"We found her, along the path. A few of my men have taken her body back to Bowerstone, she's to be given a proper burial."

Her heart broke a little upon hearing this, but she felt peace as well, as she knew Charlie was given a respectable send off. She looked up again at him, deciding now to change the topic.

"I need clothes."

His mouth fell open slightly, before his head fell back and he let out a loud laugh.

"You do, indeed you do. Where can I find some?"

She paused, taken aback at how nice his laugh was, how warm he came across and how – despite her usual reserves – she was actually feeling comfortable in his presence. Men usually leered at her, usually used her for her body, usually didn't care about how she felt and just had their way with her while she lay limp beneath them wishing she were someone else, or better yet wishing she were dead. But the king was living up to every rumour she'd heard about him, his kindness and generosity. The fact that he went above and beyond to help those in need. Which other ruler (besides his father) would have gone out of his way to rescue women from a whorehouse?

"Elouise? Where can I find you some clothes?"

She snapped back to her senses once he'd called her name out, and she flushed slightly in embarrassment before drawing the cover more tightly around herself. Nodding slightly towards the dresser she took a small breath and whispered;

"In there, I suppose."

In an instant, Logan was up and by the dresser, pulling out a pair of dark jean trousers and a plain cotton shirt. She knew they belonged to Hale, but at this moment in time she wasn't particularly bothered as long as she had something to cover her up.

"I'll leave you to dress now, I need to make sure my men have found all the women and that the men responsible here are on their way to prison."

"What'll happen to them?" she asked, brushing her ginger hair from her face and looking up at him with those wide sapphire eyes.

He paused and she saw his whole body tense as if he were considering that himself, or as if he were unsure whether or not to tell her the truth about it. Slowly he turned to look at her and his young face was drawn taut, his eyes narrowed near to slits in what was obviously anger. His face which had been so calm only moments ago was now filled with power and danger, and she shrank back slightly away from him. Before, when he was talking to her, he could have just been any other kind man – a person to talk to in your time of need, but nobody to fear. Now, however, she saw why he was King of Albion. He was powerful, and dangerous, and in that instant she felt a respect for him like she'd felt for no other, an unquestionable admiration for this social and political figurehead.

"The men that have kept you here," he started, his mouth barely moving and his lips thin as lines. "Will suffer for their crimes, and will be tried and sentenced to death by hanging when and if found guilty. They deserve far less than this though."

He turned and left the room, leaving Elouise to her shock and her thoughts. Slowly she reached for the oversized shirt and pulled it on. This would be a long day.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for the reviews! :D

The story will be slightly more positive from here-on out, but if it's starting to get more negative I will warn you the chapter beforehand, okay?

Hope you like it... and please keep reviewing, it's lovely to hear from people

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There weren't many girls that wanted to go to Bowerstone with the King and his men. Instead they chose to go their own ways, to try and find their way back to their homes and families they were ripped from. Logan provided them with transportation and provisions and wished them well with their lives, and each and every individual woman thanked him and Elouise watched as the women she'd known for years left, and she felt happy for them.

"Excuse me miss, we were wondering where you were going?" asked a man with a very posh accent, and Ella turned to see a man a good foot taller than her looking down with the kindest twinkle in his brown eyes, and the most impressive moustache she'd ever seen. It took a moment for her to get past this anomaly before she actually registered that he'd asked her something.

"I'm sorry?" she replied, feeling her face flush as she felt embarrassed and stupid.

"Miss, I was wondering if you were in need of transportation home, or if you were going to come to Bowerstone to be placed with a family that could care for you until the time comes you can move on?"

"I..." she paused and thought about it, biting her lip. The only way she knew to get back to Gunk and Bloodstone would be through Wraithmarsh, or by the high seas. This all seemed like too much effort on their behalf, so feeling heartbroken and defeated she dropped her gaze. "I'll come to Bowerstone. And please," she added, wringing her hands and uncomfortable with the formality, "call me Elouise."

The man paused, as though he knew what she was thinking, and he said very softly and quietly to her.

"We can take you anywhere you need to go, my dear."

She could hear the honesty in his voice and she bit her lip again, feeling tears spring up and threaten to break free from her eyes.

"I don't have anyone to go back to," she lied, but that felt the easiest way to stop this conversation going any further, and she looked up slightly to see him looking at her very sympathetically.

"I am sorry to hear that... in any case, you'll be travelling with me and Walter then, back up to Bowerstone and to the castle so King Logan can make arrangements for you. I'm Major Swift, but you can call me Jack," he added with a wink, and she felt instantly that she could trust this man. He led her over to the gate at the front of the bordello, where the iron was wrung and twisted together in what could only be seen as a threatening manor. It was as if it were there to say 'nobody gets in, and nobody gets out' (unless they were paying customers, of course), but this time they had failed. She saw where part of the gate had a huge chunk missing from it, the iron blown away or else leaving twisted bars in its place that were mangled and wrecked. That must be how they got in. Avo, how she would have loved to see that. He led her through the gates, chortling slightly at how her blue eyes grew as she got a look of the valleys of Rookridge. It wasn't a bad place really, and though she'd seen them before it felt different. It wasn't from over a brick wall or behind iron fences. There was a sense of freedom about the place, and she revelled in that for a moment, and Jack let her. Only for a moment though, then he tapped lightly on her shoulder and directed her attention towards an absolute bear of a man. He stood easily two foot taller than herself, a foot taller than Swift, wearing clothes of red and gold with a huge sword on his hip and a gun at his side and the smear of blood spatter across his shirt. He was intimidating, he was impressive, and she felt an unexplainable respect for the man. His eyes had the same friendly shine behind them, and she felt an unquestionable trust build up inside her for these two.

"Elouise, this is Sir Walter Beck. The Kings friend, mentor and advisor. He'll be travelling with us."

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir," she said meekly, holding her hand out to shake his. He looked at her, his beady grey eyes sweeping over her, as if examining her, and he smiled behind his gruff grey beard and moustache.

"And you, Elouise. I take it you're the one that raised the alarm about this place?"

Her heart dropped then, and she cast her eyes away from the pair of soldiers and looked down the path she and Charlie had taken only days before, before they were caught and when they had a hope of freedom. She had it now, but it seemed bitter sweet without her friend.

"I suppose I am in a way, yes."

"I'm sorry about your friend," Walter said quietly... or what she assumed was quietly for the hulking great man. His voice still carried, but it seemed no one else was listening. "The men that did this... well, they're going to get what's coming to them, don't you worry."

"Oh, I'm not worried," she spat out suddenly, her voice a lot stronger and more defiant than she'd meant it to be. She was looking over to the largest cart where the men were being put in cage like containers. She saw Hale, and he was looking back at her with venom in his eyes, his clothes torn from the struggle she had heard downstairs and blood drying slowly on his face. She felt a small smirk creep across her lips and for once she wasn't scared by him, she felt more powerful knowing he was going to die. "I know they're going to get it, they can rot for all I care."

She looked up at Walter and Jack, and both seemed a little taken aback. She started to open her mouth to apologise, but they both burst out laughing, and Walter patted her on the shoulder.

"Damn straight, balls to them all!" the larger man guffawed.

Logan shouted out for the men to ready themselves to move on, but not before having quiet words with one man before they were bundled into carts and small carriages. She was put into a horse drawn carriage with Walter and Swift, and she felt a small pit of hope and happiness build in her stomach, and though she couldn't wait to see the last of her prison as they trundled off down the road to Bowerstone, she felt the urge to look back, say goodbye to that chapter of her life and wipe the slate clean, ready to start afresh. She pulled a rope which whipped the blinds open, and to her shock, surprise and joy, she saw the bordello up in flames, the roof cracking under the heat and flame. She watched it in wonder as they moved further away, and then just before they rounded the corner and the sight was lost forever, the roof caved in, and a cloud of ash and smoke rose into the air.

This really was the end of those days, and she felt all the happier for it.

She was free, at last.


	10. Chapter 10

I hope you enjoy this chapter, everything is on the up for Ella (for now)

Review please :D

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Living in Gunk meant the largest city she'd ever seen was Bloodstone, and even that wasn't a patch on the size and grandeur of Bowerstone. Elouise, being a small town girl and due to her unfortunate situation over the past few years had not been able to explore the world around her. But now this whole new situation had arisen and she was able to open her eyes properly to her surroundings and it was wonderful. It truly was.

Jack and Walter had had trouble stopping her from crying as they'd gone through Millfields and she saw the place where Charlie had been killed, where she'd pleaded for the girl to come back to her and where Hale had taken her back to torture and rape her. But it felt like another life ago, and though still painful to think about it somehow seemed like after the tears stopped that it was all better. She didn't know why, but it was something she could put behind her. It was over now, wasn't it? So why cry now over something she couldn't change?

And it was hard to keep crying when these two gentlemen were comforting her with such concern in their kind eyes, the personality she could vaguely remember her father having all those years ago when she'd cry over little things, trivial things for an adult, but not for a child.

_The small girl was curled up on her bed sobbing, her wild red hair covering her tear stained face and her blue eyes red and puffy. She was too preoccupied to notice the door open to her room and a tall slender man walk in._

"_Baby girl, what's the matter?" he asked, and she looked up into her fathers' eyes, blue like her own and kind and wise from all his years. Her father was by no means a young man, being forty seven he was ten years older than her mother, but he was the kindest man she knew._

"_Ja-Jason took my teddy bear and threw it in the sea," she blubbed, throwing herself into his arms and crying out. Her father stroked her hair, a similar colour to her own though lighter with age._

"_Why did he do that?" he asked, and she noticed a slight hardening to his voice, and she knew Jason was already in for it. Edward loved all his children, but he always had a soft spot for Ella. She was the baby of the family, and the only girl, so he told the boys off regularly for bullying her._

"_'Cos I called him stupid," the five year old girl muttered, wiping her eyes on his sleeve while her lips twisted. She knew she shouldn't have called him that, but he'd fallen over his own feet and she'd meant it as a joke. Obviously he was feeling a bit humiliated, so having his little sister call him wouldn't have done anything to improve his temper._

"_Okay... don't do that again hun, but I'll sort Jason out."_

_Her brother got the belt for that, and he was made to buy Ella a new teddy, but he didn't once complain and took his punishment before apologising to Elouise profusely. He'd not meant to lose his temper with her, nor had he intended for it to go as far as actually launching the stuffed bear off Bloodstone docks, and he hugged her while William, Quentin and Ben all laughed at him and called him a girl. He took no notice of them, and when Ella crawled into his bed that night to tell him he wasn't a girl and she loved him again now he'd got her a new bear he'd only chuckled and pulled her into a hug, protective and loving like a brother should be._

The memories of her family brought tears to her eyes, which she furiously wiped away as she climbed out of the carriage and looked back over Bowerstone. It was immense, and seemed to go on forever into the horizon, though she knew she was grossly over-exaggerating the size of it. Her heart only seemed to jump to her throat when she turned again and saw the walls of Bowerstone castle rise up before her, the great oak door huge and intimidating, but the overall look of it was welcoming.

She stepped through, barefooted as she'd been left in Rookridge and she immediately felt the plush carpet under her feet, and it was softer and cooler than grass. The colour of the décor ranged from royal golds and reds to the deepest, most beautiful purple, all materials she would never in a million years dreamed she would see or feel, and she almost let herself get carried away as she moved to explore the room, touching and feeling everything she could.

"Elouise, would you like to come this way so we can arrange some suitable clothing for you?" Walter asked, but she just shrugged her shoulders and glanced around the room longingly.

"Couldn't I stay here for a while and explore?" she asked, though she knew what the answer would be. Walter only chuckled and shook his head a small no, and she conceded and followed him up the stairs and through the many halls until she came to a room with the doors flung open. It was a beautiful light blue in here, the carpet, the walls and sheets on the oak four poster bed. There was a white rug, the curtains were sheer and white as snow too, and there was a feel of cleanliness, of safety... and Winter.

Not in a cold way, not foreboding and cruel. But when she was a child Elouise had always loved the snow, always loved the way it landed on the ground and the trees and atop houses, making everything look clean and new. Winter had always symbolised peace to her, symbolised newness and fresh starts before Spring would come and bring a new life to the place. This room was perfect, and she reminded herself that Walter was there, and he would probably find her odd if she ran and dove on the bed. It wasn't womanly behaviour.

"I'll ask a maid to bring you some clothing, it shouldn't take long, and then you're free to explore the castle as you wish until arrangements can be made for you."

"Thank you Walter," Ella whispered, turning to the grisly man and smiling gently. "Thank you for everything."

"It's my job, Elouise. Seeing you free from that shit heap-" he coughed slightly and smirked a little, while Ella giggled. It was like a naughty joke between children. "- and seeing you happy... I'm glad I do it sometimes."

"Thank you anyways," she insisted, and he patted her atop her head, brushing her flaming bangs back from her blue eyes.

"You're welcome."

He left on that note, and as he'd said not long after a maid bustled into her room, laying out a light blue dress on the bed and fussing about with corsets and laces and underskirts. The woman was old, but her face was kind and when she looked up at Ella she must have noticed the panic on her face.

"Is something wrong my dear?" she asked, taking a step towards the girl and resting her hand on her arm.

"I-" She wondered how she could phrase the fact that she hated corsets. They were restricting, and gaudy, and where she'd been they'd made the girls wear them as a symbol of sex. At best she'd stick with a brassiere, but she hated the feel of things around her chest. It was like it was going to crush her and she wanted to run away at the thought. "The thing is..." she started carefully, "I really... I don't like corsets because... well because of before. Could I- could I get away with just wearing a bra?"

The woman looked stunned for a moment, and slightly puzzled but some hint of knowing shone through and Elouise realised she must have been told about her circumstances before she ended up here, and she flushed in shame at the thought. The lady must think she was nothing more than a tart. But the woman smiled kindly, nodded reassuringly and simply threw the corset into wardrobe.

"Consider it gone," she said with a smile, "I understand it must have been difficult for you love, it must have been terrible for such a young girl."

The red head could only nod mutely, not daring to say anything else. She stood stock still as the woman eyed her up and down, as if sizing her up, and then she placed her hands firmly either side of her underarms, squeezing her ribs and letting her go again before routing through the pile of clean laundry to pull out a bra.

"This should do, but we can alter it if it doesn't fit. Now strip off, we need to get you cleaned up and dressed."

Ella complied. She wasn't shy about stripping off in front of people, it had been her job for Avo knew how long it was now. She stood, stark naked before the woman as she tisked sympathetically over the cuts and nasty black bruises littering her body.

"Oh you poor lamb! You're like porcelain and look what those brutes did to you!"

She was ever so gentle as she washed the grime from Elouise's body, soothing her aching joints with warm water and making her smell nice with oils and creams. It was luxury at its finest and Ella didn't want to leave. She was almost disappointed when she had to dry off and get dressed, but then she felt the clean smooth fabric of the cotton panties and cotton bra, both white and both simple, but so elegant. She let the woman – whom she now knew as Audrey – slip stocking up her legs, before the dress was pulled on over her head.

It looked exquisite.

The were white underskirts that showed at the bottom of the dress in two long layers, both made of smooth cotton. The rest of the dress was a light ice blue, fitting snugly over her frame and figure. The skirt of the blue cotton showed the bottom of the white skirts and then hitched up on her left side to her hip in ruffles, letting the white show more clearly. The dress came right up to her collar bone line, covering her modesty before going out into soft but slightly puffy sleeves, which then smoothed out again and clung to her skin to her elbows, where they stopped abruptly. She looked at herself in the mirror and she didn't recognise herself. She looked... beautiful. And for the first time in years she felt like more than just a piece of meat for men to use, for now she felt like a woman, and nothing could take that away. Audrey moved to her back and started pulling the strings lightly to keep it in around her and make sure it didn't go baggy. From what she could tell the strings were just one long white silk ribbon that criss-crossed on the back of the dress.

She was given a pair of white leather pumps to slip on, and she looked at herself in the mirror again.

Her eyes seemed to shine out stronger, her face seemed more womanly somehow, and so did her body. Her hair still fell in a wild mess, but she couldn't have cared, it framed her face in curls and knots and spirals, and she smiled slightly. The only thing that marred this look was the cut on her right cheek that she previously hadn't noticed (probably because she'd been too preoccupied by the transition into normal society, and the absence of mirrors in that time). She politely declined when Audrey offered to put some make up on it to hide it, and she smiled at Jacks' reaction when he came to collect her to escort her around the castle.

"My dear! You look positively-"

"Gorgeous? Stunning?" she asked, a cheeky grin splashed across her face, "I know."

He only chortled, then offered his arm to her which she took happily, waving goodbye to Audrey as she left to explore with the soldier. He led her down the corridor again, talking quietly about the age of the place and what each room was they were passing (if it had some significance about it) and how he came to be a soldier. And she listened intently, because for once it was nice to talk to a man who didn't want to shove his penis inside her. It was when he turned to her, his moustache quivering as he smiled widely at her, when she found she was being asked the questions.

"Where would you like to go, miss?"

"The kitchens," she said, almost too quickly. She'd only discovered that her stomach was near howling at her, "and please, call me Elouise."

"Righto then! This way, miss Elouise."

Jack winked at her, and they walked quickly down a corridor lined with bookshelf upon bookshelf until they reached a set of stairs they had to descend into a dark a smoky kitchen.

"Laurence my good man, whip this lovely young lady up a bite to eat would you?" Jack called, and a man with bright red hair (though not as bright as hers) turned with a smile and nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course, Swift, and what would you like to eat ma'am?"

Elouise felt like she was suddenly put on the spot, but Jack nudged her encouragingly and Laurence the chef was positively beaming at her.

"I... just a sandwich would do please sir."


	11. Chapter 11

Another chapter. I've hit a sort of hiatus in writing this, but I'm trying to work on that. I do have a couple chapters stored up un case I can't think of what to write next, but I don't think I'll be posting them as frequently as I have been doing.

Please review, I love hearing from you guys :)

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She never got the sandwich.

Instead a whole platter of food was produced within the half hour, which astounded her as the food and the quality of it was something which should have taken hours to prepare. A roast lamb leg was set before her, with roasted potatoes, mashed potatoes, carrots and swede, peas and then a generous helping of gravy.

Her mouth was salivating before she even touched it, and her stomach practically roared.

"This... this is a lot," she said, trying to sound less like the greedy pig she wanted to be. If she had the opportunity she would have scoffed the lot of it then and there.

"Well, we don't suppose you've had the right nutrition the last few weeks, perhaps more, so we thought we'd treat you to a real meal."

She looked up at Jack and felt nothing but love and admiration. He'd not known her very long at all and already he was looking after her like a father would. Like her father used to. His eyes were warm and she smiled at him, before offering him a plate and they settled down for their lunch while he regaled her with stories about how he'd fought in battles with Walter and the old hero king, about how they fought through hoards of Hollow Men and how the old King (with their help) fought his way through the marshes to get to Bloodstone, collecting information about his ancestors and then when reaching Bloodstone he set up a gate into and out of the city which would not allow any monsters though that would harm the citizens of the port town.

"Did you know no little than seven years ago the city was almost destroyed by a banshee? Terrible, so many people died..."

She felt a lump forming in her throat at the thought of all the horror she'd seen on that day he was talking about. Images flashed before her and she felt ill as she remembered the dead bodies lying about and the men gone insane running through the street attacking more people. Gunshots rang in her ears, the same ones fired to kill those men to stop them killing anyone else. It was better for them to go that way, rather than go insane and lose their humanity any more than they already had. She remembered tears streaking down her face as she turned to flee home and was instead grabbed by a foul faceless man and grappled to the ground, bound and gagged and tossed into a crate. Taken away from her life and forced into slavery and prostitution.

"Elouise? Are you okay my dear?"

She looked up into Swifts' face, noticed how concerned he looked and she realised then she'd frozen in thought with a forkful of food half way to her mouth. Gently she set down her cutlery and pursed her lips.

"I'm fine," she whispered after a moment, before turning her eyes away. "And... yes, I knew about Bloodstone, and the banshee. I come from Gunk, it was a town next to it," it felt so strange talking about Bloodstone and Gunk, seeing as she hadn't in so, so long. Part of her wanted to stop, but she wanted to tell Jack too and in the end it won out. "I went into Bloodstone the day after the banshee was there, and it was terrible... and then I got taken by those men."

Her hands seemed to move of their own accord, one wrapping around the rusted necklace around her neck, the one she'd left off all these years and kept hidden from the maid when she was being dressed so she could put it on. It was the one thing she'd managed to hold onto, the only thing that she had left to remind her she had a family.

Her other hand went down to her leg, brushing lightly over the place where the long thin scar was, that wound it's way into her flesh and branded her for life. It was a constant reminder (besides the tattoo) that she was a slave. A piece of meat for men, and no matter what she did in life that is what she grew up knowing, and in the back of her mind she had the niggling thought that even though she'd been rescued from being a prostitute, she'd somehow find her way back there. It was what she'd seen in Gunk and Bloodstone and everywhere she'd been throughout her adolescent years. She'd been treated as nothing more than a slut for years, and that was truly what she believed she was. She felt it crawling under her skin and sinking into her bones. It was her nature, and she had nothing else.

Even if another family took her in, she'd always long for her Bloodstone, and if she ever went back there then she'd slip back into the life she'd been forced into. She couldn't read or write properly either, so what use was she in a job?

"Elouise?" Jack asked, his voice faint in the haze of thoughts running through her mind, and she shook her head slightly, looking down at her plate with her food barely touched. She felt she didn't deserve this kindness. Her pride and self esteem had been shattered the day Charlie died and Gale broke her spirit.

"I just lost my appetite," she whispered, before standing hastily and leaving through the doors of the kitchen and back up the stairs she'd come down, rushing past the bookcases and through the halls, trying to find an escape route, wanting desperately to leave and find a place she and her lowly status deserved.

The redhead didn't count on crashing into someone wearing royal purples and a silver chest plate, someone who took hold of her shoulders quickly and firmly but still kindly, his grip not too tight or harsh, but concerned and worried. Looking up through her watery eyes she saw Logan standing above her, his dark hair slicked back tidily upon his head, his dark brown eyes scanning her for any sign of injury. He couldn't see a physical one, but her emotional pain was obviously so raw that he immediately took her into a side room and sat her down.

"I almost didn't recognise you," he said quietly, sitting across from her in a plush chair, leaning forward with his hands clasped before him whilst tears streamed steadily but silently down her face. She'd gotten used to crying quietly a long time ago, so now it was force of habit. "Elouise, are you okay?"

Her head nodded jerkily of it's own accord, even though her mind was screaming no and her heart ached so terribly. He saw right through her bad lie, and sighed softly.

"What is it you'd like me to do?" he asked gently, reaching forward to clasp her hand, but his sudden movement made her jump and flinch away, and she felt guilt coil in her stomach as confusion shone from his eyes.

"Let me go," she whispered, looking up at him again. He could see the pain behind her swollen eyes, her cheeks flushed and tear streaked, the corner of her mouth fighting to stop pulling down into a deep frown that only showed her pain and misery more.

"Where would you go?" he asked softly, his fingers curling into his palm as he pulled his hand back from her, realising that this might make her feel more comfortable, if he wasn't in such close proximity to her.

"I don't know, but I can't stay in Bowerstone," she confessed, and without thinking she spilled her heart out to him, his warm brown eyes soft and comforting as she trusted him with her darkest secrets. Or most of them. She told him how she was taken as a child, forced into her line of slavery from nine years old, how she was used every day until just days ago when he found her. She told him how she was branded and how even if she did return to the place of her birth there was nothing there for her but a life of selling her body again and again, raising children she couldn't hope to afford and who wouldn't know their fathers – because there would never just be one man as a possibility. There would be dozens. She'd be lucky if she would make it through Winters, never mind into later life. Disease would take her before then. She told him how she couldn't read or write, and her only credible talent was playing the piano.

"I don't have anything for me in life," she finished, looking down at his polished boots, imagining how long it would have taken her father to save up for even one of the shining silver buckles. "I don't even know if my family are still alive. And I don't know why I'm here in the castle because there is nothing you need me for."

There was a pause hang in the air as Logan took all of this in, his eyes had dropped from hers a long time ago and there was a pained expression on his face, his brow was furrowed as if there was something he was ashamed of.

"I actually need you here to testify against the men who held you captive. I'll need to know who played what role in your- your prison, because otherwise some may receive lesser sentences than they deserve."

"I don't really want to see them again," she muttered, looking up at him as he looked at her.

The King only hummed a little, wondering how he could make it less awkward for the young girl.

"I'll have to see what I can do for you. I'm certainly not sending you out into the world if there's even a slight chance that you might be forced back into that line of work. You deserve better than that," he said sincerely, his deep voice reverberating around the room in a way that made him sound larger than life, impressive, and more than anything – honest. "In the meantime, you're free to stay here in the castle, but I think I know someone who could be of help to you."


	12. Chapter 12

Another chapter for anyone still reading this. I'm going away on holiday to Ireland in two weeks for a month and a half, so I might just take a hiatus and start writing and updating again as normal after Christmas.

Everything will be as normal until then, but come November 11th, I'm off :) might get the odd opportunity, but it will be few and far between.

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It was the day after, when she'd managed to calm herself down a little and settle down into her surroundings was she asked to dress and come down to the cells in the lower parts of the castle to point out all the men and who had what roles and what they had done to her and the other girls they'd held captive.

Audrey had brought her a plain green tunic shirt and a pair of brown cotton stockings to put on underneath, along with some warm, comfortable brown ankle boots. It had taken longer to brush her hair and pull it back to plait it than it had to get herself dressed. She looked like she was about to go out on a walk, but the truth behind the day was far more sinister. Elouise was dreading the thought of those bastards leering at her again, undressing her with their eyes like they had thousands of times before and more. But she'd see hatred in their eyes too, and though she hated them far more than they could ever hate her she still wasn't looking forward to it.

King Logan had come to find her around nine o'clock to take her down to the dining room for breakfast, where she ate her fill of toast, eggs and bacon although her stomach was protesting and with every bite she took she had the urge to throw it back up.

"Would you be alright coming to the cells with me today to pick the men from a line up?" he asked quietly, barely looking up from his plate.

"I suppose so," she replied, her voice slightly muffled as she was swallowing the last of her scrambled eggs. She saw a slight smile creep onto his face as she finished her meal, and it was at that point that a younger boy trudged into the room, his pants dirty and his shirt half buttoned up as he sat down at the table and scooped a spoonful of eggs onto his plate before shovelling some into his mouth. Elouise stared at him, he could have only been a few years younger than herself, and after a moment he looked up at her and blinked once, swallowed his food and looked to Logan.

"Who's that?" he asked bluntly.

"A guest of mine," Logan replied, sitting up a little straighter. "You should be more polite around her."

"Yeah, but why is she having breakfast with us? Your guests never have breakfast with us."

"She's a special guest, now shut up Christian, and eat," the older one snapped, and it was in that instant that Ella realised the two were brothers. She'd heard Jason talking to Ben like that more than once and knew that though the words were sharp they weren't too serious.

"In a minute," Christian muttered, turning back to Elouise. "I'm his brother-" he started, before Logan cut in.

"Unfortunately," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I'm thirteen," he continued as if he hadn't heard a word his brother had said, "and I'm going to be the next hero! Just like my father!"

"That's nice," she smiled, her blue eyes flickering from Christians' hazel brown ones to Logan's dark brown ones, wondering what else she could say.

"Yeah! Walter's teaching me how to be a hero," he went on, continuing eating his breakfast.

"It must be fun, being a hero in training," Ella said quietly, looking up to Logan for some help in how she could stop talking to the child and actually do what she was there for. She still had the need to get away from this place, and the sooner she picked the men out in the cells and told Logan what they did to her and the other girls, the sooner she could go. Logan seemed to get the hint, and cleared his throat loudly whilst Christian was going into some of the finer points of his sword training.

"We should really be getting down to business, Elouise," he said, and his little brother sighed and went quiet, realising he was being cut off. "Christian, you need to finish breakfast and get to your Latin lesson. And change your trousers."

"I hate Latin," the boy muttered, pushing his chestnut brown hair out of his face whilst he sulked.

"I hated it too," Logan muttered, pushing his chair out and waiting for Elouise to follow him. As they walked down the hall and through the kitchens, Elouise nodded slightly to the cook and felt her cheeks flush red, remembering how she'd left yesterday without eating much of the delicious food he'd made. They took a right out of the kitchens into the gardens at the back of the castle. The redhead would have stopped and looked at the grounds in all their beauty but something else caught her eye and she felt her stomach knot nervously. Across from them, situated at the bottom of a tower was the door that would lead the pair of them down into the cells where she would be face to face with her captors again. At this, Ella decided to try to strike up some conversation.

"So... how old is your brother?" she asked, knowing the answer already but wanting to kill time as she walked as slowly as humanly possible.

"Thirteen," Logan replied, walking at her pace, not bothering to try and hurry her up, his intuition telling him she was trying to stall, and he was letting her.

"Is he only thirteen? How old are you then?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I'm nineteen now," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nearly twenty actually."

"Is that all?" Ella cried, before clamping her hand over her mouth and flushing red again. "I just- I just pegged you as older, being King and all."

"Most people think the same way," Logan said, smiling down at her. "My father died two years ago, and when he did I became King and main carer for Christian. It's not like I hate the work, but sometimes I wish I had it easier... it helps having Walter around though, he was good friends with my father and Christian mostly looks up to him as his father figure now. It means I can concentrate on other things I suppose."

"Like whether or not to sentence people to death," she said quietly, and he nodded grimly.

"There's that, and setting tax rates, paying out for guards around the major cities which in turn helps lower crime rates. Funding the Brightwall Academy and the orphanages in Bloodstone and Bowerstone Industrial."

"Sounds like a lot."

"It is," he laughed, smiling down at her. "Which is why I'm thankful I have Walter to help out. Although I don't think babysitting was in his original job description."

"Probably not," Ella smiled back, then gulped nervously as she realised they'd reached the door down to the cells.

It got dark as soon as she walked through the door and started descending the staircase, torches providing the only light as they went down. The room opened up at the bottom of the staircase, prison cells lining the walls with thick steel bars connecting the floor to the ceiling. Water dripped slowly from somewhere, but she could hear it, and it made her twitch each and every time that water droplet hit the floor.

As she looked around, she saw several soldiers stood with the guns held steady at a line of men, making sure they didn't move. These prisoners were blindfolded, and with a small sigh of relief Elouise realised that none of them could look at her, watch her move around with leering eyes like they always had.

"Could you tell me who each one is and what they did?" Logan asked quietly. Ella nodded slightly, eyes scanning the men until they rested on one particular person.

"That's Hale," she said slowly, watching as his head jerked upwards upon him recognising her voice. "He owned the brothel... bought girls in, beat and raped them if they disobeyed. He branded us with numbers so people knew what we were. He killed Charlie when we tried to escape, and he punished me when he took me back."

It went on like that.

"That's Barry, the barman. He never used any of the girls, just served alcohol. Hale paid him a lot so he didn't tell anyone about the brothel."

She picked each man out. Some of the guards, a couple of them were just patrons, one of which favoured her. It took her half an hour to explain who each man was and what his particular role was in the whore house, but with each man she finished with her voice grew a little stronger, had more definition. This was her revenge on those bastards, this was her way to get justice. These men had taken her life and her childhood from her, these men has used her and degraded her, smashed her pride to pieces, along with her innocence. She would never get those lost years back, never get her childhood or innocence back. She was left to pick up the pieces.

Once she'd finished identifying each man, Elouise felt such a pride swell in her that she couldn't explain. It was just there, and it was strong. Logan nodded to her, pride shining in his eyes. He was _proud of her_. Proud that she'd managed to do something which she'd never really thought she would be able to do. It was when he placed a hand on her lower back and went to lead her out of the cells did a voice rise up. Hale's.

"Ella, love," he said, and the red head froze, and so did Logan. "Hope all of this was worth it. 'Cos let's face it love... you're not going to amount to anything in life. You're always going to be a whore. You're always going to be number fifty two."

And Elouise didn't know when Logan had left her side, or how he'd crossed the room so quickly, but she was very aware she heard a loud gasp. Turning on her heel, she saw Hale was hunched over on the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around his middle. Logan was stood above him, looking down at him with such loathing in the features on his face, his hands clenched tightly into fists. He didn't say a word to her as he approached again, nor did she as he led her up the stairs. And from what she found out, Hale didn't speak another word either.

Not when he was on trail, because there was nothing he could say to either apologise or plead his innocence – of which he had none.

Not when he was found guilty and sentenced to death by hanging.

Not when the noose was put around his neck.

And certainly not after the hangman pulled the lever. Hale never spoke another word, and Elouise was thankful for that.


	13. Chapter 13

This will be the final chapter before I go to Belfast for my holiday, but I might be able to convince my brother to loan me his laptop so I can do some writing there too. He is eleven, but you never know... a bribe might work ;)

Hope you enjoy, as ever please leave a review, it makes me really happy xD

* * *

It was early in the morning when Audrey woke Elouise up, smiling warmly and apologising profusely for the early rise.

"Sorry miss, it's just that King Logan would like to see you," she said, laying clothes out for the girl.

"Did he say what for?" Ella asked, sitting up in bed – one hand coming up to rub the sleep from her eyes, the other sweeping her fiery hair back from her face.

"No, he didn't. But I think it's something important, he asked you wear that nice blue dress again."

"No corset," Ella reminded, and Audrey smiled, nodded and said, "no corset."

It took twenty minutes for the girl to get a wash and brush her hair through, relieving it of most if its' knots and tangles but the curls were wild as ever. Audrey fastened the dress up before Elouise realised she'd done it, coming around to her front to straighten her skirts up and smile.

"Do you want to try some make up?" she asked, and Elouise smirked slightly.

"Same as ever," she chuckled, and Audrey chuckled with her.

"You're pretty enough without it anyway," she said, smiling. "I just wish I could manage your hair."

"I've been wishing that for years," the redhead muttered, looking at herself in the mirror.

Whenever she wore the nicer dresses and clothes Logan provided her with, she felt perpetually embarrassed. She was so used to skimpy outfits and sheer nakedness that to be clothed felt strange.

"You alright miss?" Audrey asked, tapping Ella lightly on the shoulder, making the teen snap her head up and out of her train of though.

"Can I talk to you Audrey? Like... honestly?"

The older woman looked at the girl in front of her, who was nervously wringing her hands as she waited for an answer. Logan had told Audrey about Elouise's previous hardships so she knew about the scars and the branding upon her shoulder and was very sympathetic towards her situation.

Sitting down upon the bed, Audrey patted the spot beside her.

"Course you can," she said gently, and Ella sat down, sighing apprehensively.

"I feel... I don't know, it's really strange. I'm so used to being treated a certain way and dressing a certain way that now I just don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I'm suffocating in all these clothes and I'm not used to people being nice. I had no sort of life before, but at least I knew what I was doing every day. Now I'm allowed to actually, you know, live... but I feel more trapped than ever."

There was a moment of silence and Audrey watched as the light in Ella's bright blue eyes died a little, her shoulders slumped, her body language screaming defeat. And in a second she wrapped her arms around Elouise's shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

"You'll find a purpose, miss. What's happened to you is terrible, I can't even imagine. But it'll get better. You know when you hit rock bottom, the only place left to go is up."

* * *

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Elouise said sheepishly, deciding to be more formal in case there was something wrong, and she stepped through the large oak doors into the map room. Walter was just on his way out, and the pair shared warm smiles. Logan however cast a curious look over to her, as in the few weeks they'd known one another she'd never spoken formally or addressed him by anything other than his name.

"Ah... yes. Elouise, there's somebody here to see you."

Ella looked about the room and saw a man sitting quietly and previously unnoticed in the plush purple chair beside the fireplace. He had a cup of tea in his hand, but for the time being he didn't seem overly concerned about drinking it. Instead he was watching the redhead with rapt attention. He was probably in his late thirties or early forties. His hair was a light blond colour, his eyes a light brown. Whoever he was, he had an air of kindness about him, a vast intelligence shone from his eyes. His lips were thin, the corner of his mouth twisted up into a small half smile, but in a way he seemed sad.

"Elouise, this is Thomas Kirkman. He-" Logan started, but Thomas cut over him, looking apologetic.

"I am the one who raised the alarm," he said simply, but there was a meekness about him. "I watched them sods chase you and your friend down."

Ella sat quietly on the sofa, her blue eyes staring at the man before her.

"You saw them shoot Charlie? Why did you not try to stop them?"

She sounded wounded, her voice trembling with a silent, seething fury, her eyes betraying her pain as a small tear slipped down the side of her face before she could think to blink it away, but she was too proud to move and wipe it away. She watched as his eyes flickered to her left cheek, watching the tear leave its' trail down until it dripped from the bottom of her chin. Before he spoke, his eyes swept downwards to stare at his own feet, he looked almost ashamed, and for a fleeting second Ella was glad of it. She already felt such anger towards this man and she hadn't known him five minutes, and they'd barely spoken two sentences to one another.

"I wish I could have miss. I started out of my house as soon as I heard gunfire. But I'm afraid I can't move so fast."

As if to prove his point, Thomas knocked lightly on his left knee and a resounding wooden sound followed each knock. He had a prosthetic leg, and Elouise's anger dissipated almost immediately. In fairness, she couldn't be mad with a man who was obviously physically disabled, nor could she resent him for not being able to do much more. If he'd tried to intervene he would have probably been killed too, and at the very least he managed to help save the lives of the rest of the girls holed up in that brothel. What still irritated her though was that there had been nobody else, not one person. It seemed that when people needed the help most, everyone around seemed to disssappear, when really someone should always be around. It didn't seem fair to her that she and Charlie had been left alone the way they had.

"I am sorry for your loss," he said gently after a moment, having left her some time to consider things. His voice was laced with a genuine sorrow, and it seemed that on some level he was hurt by Charlie's death too.

"so am I," she whispered. There was a moment of silence that seemed to go on forever, until Logan cleared his throat and sat down besides Ella.

"Thomas has offered to take you in until you manage to find a job and your own residence."

"I can't let him do that," Elouise said bluntly before realising the sharpness of her words had taken the two men aback. "I mean, it's not like I don't appreciate the gesture and everything, because I really do! It's just... because of you I'm free. I was saved by the King, Walter and Jack... all because of you telling them. You've already done so much for me and I've been allowed to stay here when I could have just been left to deal with things. I can't accept any more kindness when I already owe so many people so much."

"I can't turn you out to the streets," Logan said without pause, turning his chocolate brown eyes towards Elouise. "And I can't let you walk out either."

Ella turned and stared at Logan, unsure if she was touched or frustrated by him. Before she could make up her mind however, Thomas spoke up again.

"Just... just stay a month or so. Just to get the feel of things and see how you'd like it."

For a moment, Elouise was silent. In the back of her mind thoughts about the last eight years okayed through her mind. She'd been used as a whore by men with no morals. She'd been used as a plaything by one of the wealthiest in society. She'd forged her opinions of people – certain kinds of people – and the thought of spending a month in high society seemed unbearable. Plus, if the people where Thomas lived were as rich as their homes suggested, then they would easily tell she wasn't one of them, and she didn't want to have to deal with more stigma and people shunning her for something she'd never had a say in. However, a month was nothing compared to the years she'd already had. So why not at least give it a go, right?

"I'll do it," she said finally. "One month, that's it."


End file.
